When the Warlocks march
by Alaricadein
Summary: What if the wizards actually did know how to fight? What if there was a reason that most of humankind's myths and legends of witches and wizards can be so terrifying? What if there was a reason beyond sheer power that Voldemort was wary of Dumbledore?
1. Chapter 1: When the Warlocks march

Insert all standard whatever you think is important here, including but not limited to: disclaimers regarding not owning the copyright, disclaimers regarding mental health, disclaimers regarding excessive dihydrogen monoxide use, and so on.

Seriously, you've been warned. Also, that's the only warning being given, so strap in, lay back, and hopefully, enjoy the show!

 **When the Warlocks march.**

The judges all stood around in shock, looking at the dead champion and the boy holding his body. They stood and stared as the boy turned to face Dumbledore and gasped "He's back, sir. He killed Cedric. He's back." Dumbledore suddenly moved like a man much younger as he moved over, grasped Harry's head and commanded "Show me. Show me all that happened. Now." For half minute they stood frozen as bright lights and dark shadows seemed to distort around the old mage leaning down to the child on the grass.  
Abruptly, Albus released the boy's face and stood, calling out "Pomfrey! Attend to the boy, now! He is in your care for the next two days, none but his friends are to be able approach him." The other judges jumped back in shock as he brought a patronus into being with a wave and whispered to it, then strode off towards the castle as the patronus took off like a rocket. _'So... Once again we are here. On the brink of destruction. I won't make the same mistake again. We go to war immediately this time, and I pray that what I have done these past years will let me be victorious.'_

* * *

Arthur Weasley was sitting at his desk looking at yet another full inbox of utterly useless and incredibly irritating inter-office memos, when a phoenix patronus swept through his closed door and spoke one word in Dumbledore's voice. "Excelsior." Arthur's jaw dropped and he stammered back "E-excelsior acknowledged." As the patronus turned and flew off along its mission Arthur moved to a tall wardrobe in the back of his office and opened it, feeling a cut as he set his hand upon the handle. As he opened the doors wide, he began stripping off.

Once he was down to underwear he withdrew the thick, heavy clothing covered in embroidered and appliqued runes and symbols and hastily dressed. As he was pulling on his last over-robe, he heard his office door open and his secretary call, "Mister Weasley, what's going o..." Arthur turned half way as he reached into the wardrobe for one last item. As his hand grasped the eye height tall staff standing in the back of the closet, he turned his face to his opened mouth secretary, and said calmly "Ah, Miss Perks! Thanks so much for checking up on me so quickly, you've always been very efficient that way! Much appreciated, really! Unfortunately, some rather important things have come up, and I am unlikely to be be back in the office for a while! So, could you help whoever gets sent down here to hold the fort down while I'm away?"  
Arthur stepped away from the wardrobe, clapped the stunned secretary on the shoulder and walked out the door into the madhouse that was the Ministry. As he walked towards the lifts at the end of the hall, quiet seemed to ripple out as people saw him walking in his grim blood red robe with silver and black runes forming elaborate patterns all over, and his staff, deep red, with metallic silver runes hammered into the surface striking the floor in sync with his left heel.

He stopped in front of the lift, and felt the eyes of everyone one the floor on him as he reached out to press the button. As he waited he stretched his neck and felt the detached calm that came from having his staff back in his hands. The door _dinged_ , and he stepped forward into the small area that rapidly grew larger as the other workers pressed back against the walls, one even dropping his cup of tea. Arthur reached out and hit the button for the DMLE floor and smiled vaguely at the young man who shrunk back from his outstretched arm.  
"Tremendous day, isn't it? Fascinating what can happen in the Ministry! Never know just what you'll see next, isn't that right young man?!" Arthur clapped the now white faced and shaking man on the shoulder just as the door _dinged_ again and opened and he strode out.

The instant he stepped out the floor started to go quiet as they saw him, with his staff tapping the floor as he strode along. Arthur walked to the nearest Aurour.  
"Ah, Dawlish, old chap! Would you know which way Kingsley's office is? There's a spot of bother we need to sort out!"  
Dawlish just pointed with a shaking hand, and Arthur strode to the indicated office and thumped on the door with his staff before walking in.  
Inside, Kingsley Shacklebolt was just closing up some toggles on his own blood red robe with one hand as he ran his other up and down his own stave, bone white with black metal spiraling around it, forming runes that sat more uneasily on the mind the longer they were looked at. Kingsley turned his face towards Arthur and spoke in his deep, resonant voice, "So, it begins once again. And this time we shall fight properly. Come, my brother in arms, let us go to war..."  
Arthur reached out and clasped Kingsley's arm, and the portkey that Kingsley was clutching and felt the yank as it activated.

* * *

As Dumbledore ran through the castle to his office, he mentally prepared for what was coming, feeling the years almost slide off him, as the layer that showed the slightly daft schoolteacher slid away. As he opened his own heavily warded wardrobe and dressed in heavy robes, he felt the wards alert him to incoming portkeys, and he hurried out to the main hall.

* * *

Meanwhile, Minister Fudge was having a particularly bad day. It had started off bad when there was a fantastic balls-up in paperwork in the morning, and had gotten steadily worse all day. By now he had a spectacular headache and no end was in sight. Then it got even worse, when one of his aides came running in, very flustered, and blurted "Minister! We are getting reports from all over the Ministry! The warlocks are armouring up and portkeying somewhere, we suspect to Hogwarts! The Redstaff and Bonestave were also reported to have gone active! What's happening, sir? What should we do?!"

* * *

Xenophilius Lovegood was standing on the kitchen table, balanced on his left foot, with his arms spread wide and glass sphere sitting on his right foot which was stuck out in front of him. He was staring at the colours rippling along the ceiling, reflected off the sphere and his face had a delighted and more than slightly vacant look as he did so. Suddenly, a silver patronus zoomed in through his window and said in the Chief Warlock's voice "Excelsior". Xeno's head whipped around and his face suddenly looked haggard, all delight falling away in the blink of an eye. Xeno shut his eyes for a second as heart wrenching grief rippled across his features and he responded in a dead, flat voice "Excelsior acknowledged."  
He didn't watch the patronus fly off as he climbed down from the kitchen table. He walked like an old, old man as he took the stairs to the highest floor of the Rookery, to a set of doors that he had not stepped through in nearly eight years. He set his hands on the twin knobs and pushed open the doors to the master bedroom. He stepped through into a room nearly perfectly preserved, and he sobbed once.  
"Oh, Selene... I swore that it would never come to this. I swore I'd look after our daughter. But I couldn't, my love, I'm broken. You know what I am. All I can say is that I tried. I tried from the day you left us. From the day we lowered your coffin into the cold ground, it all went wrong. I tried, but I'm broken."  
He sobbed again, and walked over to the farthest wall, to a great ebony wardrobe and placed his palm on a flat hand print. "I tried. But we both fell apart. I'm broken and your daughter saw you die and it broke her too... I tried, Selene, oh, how I tried. And now I will become a warlock in truth. I will break an oath. I know I swore I would always do my best to keep her safe, but I swore other oaths long ago, oaths that bind my very soul. All I can do , my Selene, is now beg your forgiveness, and hope that you don't judge me too harshly."

The wardrobe door swung open on its own and Xeno stripped. He reached in and pulled out a thigh length tunic with small spider-like runes around the neckline and wrists and pulled it over his head. The runes seemed to flash, for just a second before beginning to crawl along their paths, moving over the fabric in a slightly eerie fashion. Next a pair of trousers was pulled out, nearly as wide as Xeno was tall, tapering sharply to the ankles, with inch thick runes running in strips around the waist and down the length of both legs. Xeno sat on the long undisturbed bed and pulled on the trousers, before summoning two bands of cloth from the wardrobe, which he carefully wrapped over the trousers, starting at each ankle and up to his knees, touching the symbols woven into the fabric every 3 inches. As he tied off the bands at each knee, his face became more and more drawn.  
Xeno stood, and grabbed the drawstrings running through the immensely wide waistband of his trousers, and pulled them tight, until the trousers were gathered around the waist. He wrapped the the strings around his waist and tied them tight. A thick scarlet over-tunic came next, this one with four inch tall runes stitched around the base, wrist and neckline. Finally a dragonhide belt was looped twice around his wast, cinching in the tunic, before his blood red robe was pulled over his head.

Xeno turned and looked into the mirror across the room and saw his reflection, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He reached back, and took out a cloak, draped it over his shoulder and attached a heavy bronze clasp. He glanced again at the mirror before turning his back on it, and reaching both hands more deeply into the wardrobe than seemed possible. He closed his eyes and felt around for a moment, before feeling the heavy warm wood of his staff.

"And so it comes to this. Selene, if this is the last that I ever say to you, know that I have loved and will love you always, from the day we met, through all we did, even as your body went to its final resting place, until I end up in the hell in which I will most surely reside." Xeno's voice changed as he took the staff from the wardrobe, becoming deeper, almost sounding like boulders colliding. "For now I am become death, and destruction shall I carry forth. Tens shall die by my word, and hundreds by my voice. Forgive me, Selene, I beg that of you..."

Xeno raised his staff high, and brought it crashing down, and had disappeared before the noise had finished echoing around the Rookery.

* * *

On the Hogwart's grounds, outside what was usually the quidditch pitch, there was chaos. Everybody had seen the famous Potter boy arrive holding a body in his arms and Dumbledore do something, and then storm off to the castle, although no-one was exactly sure what he had done. People watched as the Boy-Who-Lived and the body of the Hogwarts champion were quickly taken inside by Madam Pomfrey and an assistant. The Minister's representative struggled to push through the crowd, to try to find out just what was happening, when there was a earsplitting crack, and two men appeared halfway between the pitch and the castle. They were dressed in red robes, far darker than the crimson robes of the aurors, and they carried staffs. They hurried into the castle, moving so fast they were nearly sprinting.

Seconds later, with another thunderous noise, another man appeared, also in the deep red robes with a matching cloak and also carrying a staff. He turned and walked with a dreadful solemnity towards the dark walls of the castle.


	2. Chapter 2: Whispers of Warlocks

A/N So, I'm tying to avoid doing any more A/N's, so this will be short, and won't happen again. This chapter is short, as it, and the next one are basically setting the scene for Act 1.

Chapter 2:  
 **Whispers of Warlocks**

Albus looked at the other three men standing in the Great Hall with him, and mourned for what could have been. _I made so many mistakes the last time. Is this the right decision? I can but hope..._ Xeno looked back at him, and grief and insanity lurked in the depths of his eyes. Kingsley stared around the room, a wide grin on his face, as he waited for Albus to speak. Arthur merely had a polite expression that seemed to say "Shall we?"

Albus took a breath and spoke; "The others will be here momentarily. Now, by tradition, I must ask this next question. Warlocks, to each of you do I speak. Art thou prepared to take up thine staves?"  
Albus looked around, and each of the three in turn said "My oath I will fulfil, till we have claimed victory or my soul departs my earthly body."

Albus smiled, and nodded. "Very well! Now that we have that out of the way, let's prepare for the others. First, we will be striking out immediately, and we will not be working separately, at least for now. So, Arthur, if you would, who do you think we should we go after first to have the most impact?

"Well, Albus, here's what I know..."

* * *

The Minister sat on the edge of his well padded chair and nervously crumpled a piece of paper time and again. "So, do we know just who is holding the staffs?" The Minister's voice was an octave higher than usual, and he spoke with the precision of a terrified man. Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE, sitting on one of the other chairs in the room, answered "We know definitely that the Redstaff is Arthur Weasley, who's installed as the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. The Bonestave is Kingsley Shacklebolt, who's an Auror. I thought he worked for me!"

Amelia shook her head. "We still have no idea who holds the Lindenrod, and this is of great concern to us. We hope to find out soon, as all three are in all likelihood with the Chief Warlock by now." Amelia shook her head again, and the Minister grew even more nervous. "No matter what happens, none of us have any legal standing to make them stand down. If we find that Dumbledore has misused his authority after the fact, there is a mandatory punishment of rather a gruesome nature that must be meted out, but we cannot stop them."

The Minister dropped the piece of paper and asked "Why are you so concerned about the Lindenrod? I barely remember any of the briefing concerning this from when I took office, so please, lay it all out, or we're doomed!"

Amelia face went blank as she fought to keep her distaste for the minister of he features, and she explained, "I read up on this just before heading here, Minister. Traditionally, the Lindenrod was the dispenser of justice. He decides who lives and who dies. The Redstaff was the gatherer and keeper of information, and the Bonestave the one carries out the Lindenrod's decisions."

"That's not to say that they can't all fight – indeed, in all likelihood, they'll all be fighting alongside Dumbledore, who has his own staff. But, they will also be directing up to twenty seven others, but none of them will carry a staff. It's likely we won't even know who they are until they start casting. I think it will be the full twenty seven too – I am now fairly sure that Dumbledore has been recruiting in the past few years. Other than that, all I can say, Minister, is that we are in trouble. A great deal of trouble. The warlocks haven't fought a true war on british soil since the time of Merlin. They have fought over the waters, and sometimes helped the Wizengamot, but with the three staffs being openly shown, it must be war."

The Minister was twitching from nervousness by the time Amelia had finished, and he immediately asked, "Could we send the Aurors to stop them? Yes! That's it! After all, this can't be legal, and it will be very bad for our public image!"

Amelia, for the first time in a long while, felt her jaw drop. "Minister, are you insane?! They are the WARLOCKS! If they don't want to come, we could take the entirety of the Department of Aurors, with the support of every other member of the DMLE, and they wouldn't even blink an eye! I also have just told you, we have no legal standing to stop them! By law, if you gave that order, we would be bound by our own laws to ignore it. Tell me, Minister, do you really have a death wish? If the Lindenrod decides that you are helping whoever, or whatever, it is that necessitated this call up, then what?"

The Minister stared at the head of the DMLE, paled, and then flushed beet red. "Oh. Uhm. Yes. Well then. Very well, post notices that all proper assistance should be given to a warlock, should they request it." The Minister paused, and then asked in an increasingly nervous voice, "What should we tell the press? They will want answers, you know! If we don't tell them something, they'll pillory us!"

Amelia merely tilted her head, and replied, "That, Minister will be for you and your advisers to figure out. I have to go and start getting my department ready for whatever is coming, which means I will likely be spending a great deal of time kicking backsides with the department. So, if you will excuse me?"  
She swept out without waiting for an answer from the trembling politician.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was sitting in his private study, going over accounts that hadn't been seen to in a while. Lucius was irritated, growing more annoyed by the second over the general incompetence of the idiots that he had working for him, when he heard a chime sound through the manor. He dropped his pen, feeling grateful for the distraction, stood and hurried to the room with the hearth that was connected to the floo.

In the fire was the head of one of his informers in the ministry, who was visibly nervous, and the instant Lucius stood before the fire he spoke. "Malfoy! I don't have much time! Pass this on to our Lord. Dumbledore's title of Chief Warlock is not just ceremonial. The ministry is in a tizzy - the warlocks were summoned, and the Three went with staff and robe. More information later. Now, I have to go, I'm out of time!"

Lucius felt his mind go blank as the head disappeared from the fire and he simply stood there for a full minute before he felt his thoughts start up again. Unfortunately for him, all he could think of were an endless loop of words that normally would never pass his ever so aristocratic lips.

* * *

In the Hogwarts infirmary, meanwhile, Madame Pomfrey worked steadily to do what she could to minimize the harm done to the unconscious boy who was once again in her care. She glanced up as the boys two irritating friends barged in, and snapped at them to stay back, before going back to work. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them settle down to wait, watching anxiously.

* * *

Deep under Gringott's Bank, a meeting was being held. All the senior most goblins had been urgently summoned, and there had been much talk among the lesser goblins as the senior were hurried to the director's secure rooms.

* * *

In the Forbidden Forest, the Centaurs gazed through the branches to the sky and told each other of the brightness of Mars and Jupiter, and a consensus to keep to the deepest parts of the forest was reached.

* * *

Across the English Channel, prominent officials were disturbed from whatever they were doing by frantic aides as soon as their informants sent them information marked to show the greatest urgency. Meetings were convened and arguments broke out. Slowly many different groups came to similar conclusions, and settled down to watch warily, and wait for news from Britain.

* * *

The word of the warlocks gathering with their staves in hand had made its way out into the world, and the world held its breath, and waited.


	3. Chapter 3: The Warlock's Fist

**A/N** \- Yes, even though I hate doing A/Ns, I figured I should put one in here, to apologise. This was supposed to be here monday, and be near double the length. Unfortunately, things did not go to plan, and now the schedule which I thought was reasonable has had to be dumped... So, sorry.

 **A Warlock's Fist**

Two days had passed, in which the witches and wizards learning and teaching at Hogwarts had caught glimpses of men rushing from one of the towers to the edge of the wards and apparating away and coming back at odd times. Two day, in which the wizarding world at large had not seen hide nor hair of the Chief Warlock. Two days, in which Harry Potter slowly recovered in the Hogwarts infirmary.

The Ministry had fielded nervously polite almost-inquiries from across Europe, as everybody wondered _"What will the Warlocks do?"_ And then, on the third day, the question on everybody's mind was answered.

=WTWM=

Charlie Cooper was on the way back from his job, heading to his flat and almost there, when he saw something that no British man or woman had seen in more than one thousand years.  
It started with seven men in long black robes with white masks walked down the middle of the street Charlie was on, forcing what little traffic there was to a standstill. Charlie watched with more than a little puzzlement as they stopped in front of a small store and stood around for a minute talking to each other.  
Then his puzzlement turned to fear, when one of them seemed to wave a hand, and the entire front of the store exploded outward, the flying fragments splitting to go around the group in robes. The shockwave bowled Charlie over, and he felt a trickle of warmth running down his face. He lifted his hand, feeling like everything was moving incredibly slowly, and touched his face. When he looked at his hand, a small corner of his mind noted _Oh. My hand is red. Oh. Must be blood...  
_ Charlie rolled over and pulled himself behind a parked car, and watched from his hiding place as the people in robes seemed to throw balls of light into the store with the missing front. He watched as they dragged a woman from the building, threw her onto the street, and threw a ball of light at her which made her _scream,_ like nothing he'd ever heard before _._

At Hogwarts, in the tower inhabited by the warlocks, the Redstaff suddenly jerked upright and seemed to stare into nothingness for a long moment. His hands clenched on the edge of the small table he and the other three were gathered at, and sorrow covered his face. Albus and Kingsley reached out, grasped his shoulders, and held them until Arthur came out of his vision.  
He looked down at the floor for a second, before glancing at each of the three in turn and saying "Well, Chief, it seems we have an opportunity. There are seven Death Eaters destroying a small shop in London right now. I believe the shop belongs to a half-blood who was rather helpful to us in the last war, even if she never openly defied the madman. The are holding her under the Cruciatus right now."  
Albus stroked his beard for a second before nodding, "Yes, yes, this should be where we start. We will apparate there. Kingsley you will take the lead once we are there. Once we have secured them, Xeno, you will be called upon. Arthur, you will be on my left, and you will shield us at all times, in case there is a second group watching."  
Kingsley grinned, and Xeno closed his eyes tight for a moment before his face settled into blankness. All four turned towards their staves, and held out a hand to summon them. The staves flew through the air, and the few wand warlocks in the tower looked over as the Chief and the Three took their staves in hand.  
Albus looked at Arthur and asked, "Arthur? You will take us directly there?" Arthur nodded, and the other three put a hand each on one of his shoulders. Arthur Weasley placed both of his hands upon his deep blood red staff, and began to focus. The air in the room began to haze and shimmer, and small winds seemed to spring up from nowhere and die back down almost as soon as they were felt. Static crackled through the room, and just as the room began to feel as if lightning was mere seconds away, the four disapparated with a mighty _crack_.  
The wand warlocks left behind looked at each other, and almost simultaneously shook their heads, and went back to whatever they had been working on.

Meanwhile, Charlie was hiding behind the car, and wishing for the screaming to stop. The poor woman on the ground had been _screaming_ for nearly a minute, and the sound was only getting worse, as she contorted on the ground. Six of the seven in robes were standing around her now, laughing as the seventh waved his hand back and forth above her, laughing harder the more she screamed.  
As Charlie was watching, for a moment he felt his ears suddenly hurt, as if the air suddenly had become hugely pressurised for one moment, then almost no pressure the next. Just as he felt that his ears were about to explode, the earth seemed to ripple underneath him and he heard a tremendously loud noise, almost like a cannon firing _.  
_ For a split second, he started to wonder what was happening now, before the car he was hiding behind was picked up and thrown over his head, and then he was tumbling in the wind with no thoughts other than a desperate wish to survive.

Kingsley felt Arthur's magic dragging him to their destination, and stretched out his arms and staff before him, and waited for the shock of landing. Half a second later he stood in a small street, with seven Death Eaters before him looking stunned from the tumult of Arthur's apparition. Just as the Death Eaters shook themselves out of their shock, Kingsley whispered words that seemed to twist in the air and threw out hands and staff, and four black robed wizards were wrenched to stand on the tips of their toes as their arms splayed out.  
For a second, they hung there in the air, before a grating cracking sound was heard, and they dropped to their knees on the cold hard pavement. One coughed wetly, and his bone white mask fell off. He coughed again, and bright red blood spilled down his chin. He breathed out, wheezing and looked down at his chest in stunned disbelief before looking back up and saying hoarsely "You've killed me. No, I can't die. I'm a Death Eater. I can't die..."  
Blood bubbled out of his mouth with the last word, and he collapsed forwards, followed seconds later by the others kneeling next to him.

Albus cleared his throat and said "Must you, Kingsley? You didn't even ask them to surrender first!" He turned to look at the remaining three and spoke in his kindest voice, with a kind smile. "Perhaps you would like to drop your wands, yes? Otherwise Kingsley may feel compelled to start being _nasty,_ and, well, that's just not something I want see today, after such a lovely breakfast..."  
The three, who were standing frozen in fear, looked at the four warlocks before them and almost as one, dropped their wands.

Charlie, meanwhile, had come to an abrupt halt lying awkwardly against a wall, and watched the confrontation in shock, not believing what he saw. He watched the four men, lead by the old man with a long white beard formed a circle, and the man in the front stretch out his staff. He watched the robed people die, and saw the blood dripping from their masked faces, and for the first time in his life, felt fear so strong that it numbed his mind and made his body feel like ice. He watched as the red-headed man with a staff tossed a glinting coin onto each of the dead men, and then pressed one against the three left standing.  
He lay there, frozen stiff with terror, as the old man waved a hand with a short stick in it and an almost see through silvery bird appeared and then flew off. Unmoving, he lay there, as more people appeared, and looked around in horror, before talking to the old man.  
He saw the old an give instructions, before waving to the other three with staffs, and then call out a word and disappear, along with the robed people. He could do nothing but watch, as one of the newcomers walked up to him and waved her own small stick at him, and then he remembered nothing of all that had happened forever more, until he woke up in hospital and was told that he had been caught in an explosion.

=WTWM=

In the warlock's tower, twenty-two men were patiently going about their various duties, sifting through parchment and paper, monitoring crystal balls and other devices when Dumbledore's patronus flew through the wall and spoke in the Chief Warlock's voice. "We are coming back in, we have three prisoners alive and four dead. Be ready to take custody."  
One of the warlocks moved over to the west side of the tower and picked up a large pitcher of water. He knelt and poured the water out, into a circle and pentagram incised in the floor. When the water filled the shallow carving, he put the pitcher down and drew a small pin, with which he pricked his thumb. He squeezed his thumb until three drops fell into the water, then wiped his hand on his robe and proceeded to draw runes with with the tip of his wand along the inner side of the circle while maintaining a slow, rhythmic chant almost at a whisper.  
When he finished, for a fraction of a second a silvery wall sprung upwards from the circle, before fading away. The now exhausted man sat back, and then stood to get something to drink, feeling near to fainting.  
One of the others quickly moved over to help, and the warlock muttered "Thanks, 'delus" before collapsing into a chair.

Fifteen warlocks stood ready when the Four and their captives were brought in by portkey, and they rushed to take the live Death Eaters and immure them in the circle, throwing them in roughly, before speaking a word and watching the silver walls light up, and become impenetrable.

Four of the other warlocks had taken the bodies, and were searching them thoroughly, and placing everything found onto table, to be examined later.

=WTWM=

And later that day, as word spread of what happened, the Ministry began to panic all over again. The foreigners who had come to see what was happening sent their reports back to their own Ministries, and a second round of urgent conferences began, and debates began and ended, all over one small confrontation. But still, no one knew what was to happen, and so, all the watchers decided to bring up their wards, and wait to see what would happen.

Once again, the world held it's breath, and waited for the next act...


	4. Chapter 4: The Fist is Mailled

**Hi. First off, sorry about taking so long. Despite the fact that I was hoping to do this with only one AN at the start, it seems that I have to do one every time. I had hoped to put this out nearly a thousand words longer, and more than a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, reality (and quite a few paramedics) intervened, and my revised schedule went out the window too. You may notice a difference in the writing - due in part to the medications I am now on I take longer for less results.  
**

 **Anyway, I hope this at least excuses my absence, even though I said I would post regularly... Enough of this, I hope you enjoy.  
**

* * *

=WTWM=

Florean Fortescue was old man. He remembered the rise of Grindlewald, and the jubilation when Grindlewald was defeated by Dumbledore. He remembered the dark times of the rise of Voldemort and the times when he was sure he would be run out of business by the uncertainties that arose with the Dark Lord. He remembered the attacks, and he remembered the week long party that had happened after the Halloween of 1981 when it was announced that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fell, defeated by a baby.

When the Warlocks took up their staves and secluded themselves in Hogwarts, he began to fear for the future. When the rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back and that seven Death Eaters had been apprehended in the act of casting the Cruciatus on a woman, he activated some of the more discreet wards on the wardstone in his basement, a relic from the last war.

Now, every time he served a customer, he could see the unease in the eyes of the adults, and the slight confusion in the faces of the children, and he hoped and prayed that the rumours remained naught but rumours.

However, his hopes were dashed on what would have a otherwise fine July day for the residents of Diagon Alley. Just after noon, as Florean was checking on his stocks in the basement between customers, he heard the first screams, and the start of something that would haunt his dreams for years began. He ran upstairs, and stepped out from behind the counter just as an old witch, in old fashioned robes, ran in with blood streaming down her head, looking for somewhere to hide.

The witch saw him, and she blurted out "Death Eaters!" Florean blinked and asked what she had said, and she replied, the words nearly tripping over each other, "There are Death Eaters in Diagon! They killed poor Gertrude, and they were going to kill me when they got distracted by something! And Gertrude just turned ninety seven, too, oh, poor, poor Gertrude..."

Florean stood and moved as fast as he could back into the basement, to his wardstone, where he activated every ward that he could. That finished, he ran upstairs to his floo connection, threw some powder in and called out "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!" Once the fire turned green, he knelt and put his head into the fire and called out for the Headmaster.

=WTWM=

All the warlocks had been busy since the capture of three Death Eaters, and they had spent a great deal of time and effort questioning them about anything that the assembled warlocks could think of. They had otherwise spent time updating the giant map that was now inscribed into the floor in the centre of the tower, with little figurines standing on it to mark everything from previous battles to suspected Death Eater homes.

The calm was shattered when the door to the tower was slammed open, and the Chief Warlock stormed through, followed closely by Kingsley. Albus shouted "Stand to! All warlocks, grab your wands, and get ready, we are going to fight Death Eaters that are right now killing people in Diagon. Be strong, and remember your oaths!"

Albus conjured a long rope, and waited until all the warlocks had taken hold, Kingsley and Arthur at one end, with Xeno and himself at the other. He took a quick headcount and hoped that the fifteen wand warlocks that he had on hand was enough to fight alongside the staff-wielders to defeat the Death Eaters. Albus concentrated, and whispered " _Portus Diagon_ " and the rope warmed beneath his hand for a second, before all the warlocks were dragged through space to Diagon Alley.

Chaos. Screams and smoke and fire and the burnt bacon smell of people dead by that fire. And into that the warlocks appeared, and began to change the world. Kingsley looked around, and asked "Albus, we need to see, in order to fight. Bring a wind, Albus, bring a wind." Albus nodded, his beard swaying, and replied, "Very well. But as I do so, you must all go forth with speed. Strike fast and hard. This is war to the hilt, and you need to save the people we are sworn to protect, my boys."

Xeno looked up, and lifted his spare hand in front of his face to stare at his fingers as he waved them around. He spoke in a dreamy voice "I as the Lindenrod, do declare the perpetrators of this crime to be outlaws. Further, I damn them. They will be slain, for what they have done, and what they would otherwise do." He blinked and his eyes focused and he spoke one word.

"Begin."

Albus raised his staff, and began to murmur. The air around them responded, and swirled, and soon a gale was blowing down the alley, sending dirt, dust, and the stinking smoke away from the nineteen men who stood there. As the alley began to clear, the warlock strode forwards, and with them walked Death.

For the wizard-folk of the alley, one second there was pain, screams, and panic, and then nothing but the shriek of the wind. Behind the wind came the warlocks, colours for which there were no names swirling in the air around them, and fire streaming from their wands, and forces that were almost beyond the ken of mortal witches and wizards hammering forth from the staffs of the Four as they marched forward.

Kingsley marched at the head of the Four, his staff whirling through the air leaving a glowing trace behind, his face alight with a demented grin, and his laughter crackling out over the Alley. Cobblestones rose from the ground before him and slammed forward while raw magic bled into the world around him from the mighty spells he wove as he strode forward.

To Kingsley's right, and two steps behind him, Arthur walked steadily, keeping his position guarding Kingsley's side. His face was twisted into a grimace and there were tears steadily tracing their way down his cheeks, even as he blasted a Death Eater into a wall with such force that it seemed every one of the Death Eater's bones shattered...

On the other side Xeno meandered along, seemingly walking incredibly slowly, yet keeping precisely opposite Arthur. Xeno seemed both utterly concentrated yet heavily distracted at the same time, and his spells lanced out here and there, without the terrible power of the other two, yet every time he set loose his magic it changed the balance of the battle, sending the enemy stumbling in retreat.

Behind the three, Albus advanced with a line of fifteen wand warlock stretched across the alley. Albus kept his staff raised, and his chant continued, keeping the great gale blowing down the Alley. The others in the line conjured bindings for any of the few Death Eaters that remained alive as they stepped over them, and murmured spells to heal those that they could as they advanced.

Up the Alley they went, past Gringott's, and suddenly, it was over. Nothing remained to fight, and the only sounds left after the howl of the wind died down were the crackling of the fires, the sobs of the wounded and the crying of those who were sitting beside lost loved ones.

The warlocks spread out, going to each of the downed Death Eaters, ripping off masks, and bringing the bodies and rare live one to the centre of the Alley. They stacked them roughly before two who stood there transfiguring the bodies to little figurines. Once all the bodies were transfigured, one of them put them all in a sack, and went to Dumbledore to ask for a portkey back to Hogwarts, which he promptly used.

The three live Death Eaters were bound into conjured stretchers, given enough aid to prevent them dying immediately, and carted back to Hogwarts.

=WTWM=

As the last stretcher was portkeyed to Hogwarts, the aurors arrived. The first of them to arrive looked around at the scene of carnage, flames, and rubble and went pale, before moving to help the victims lying wounded on the cobblestones of the Alley. Moments later other groups of aurors arrived, and went to help the hurt, evacuate the many wounded to St Mungo's, and to place barriers around the fallen forms of the dead.

As the aurors went about their duties, the warlocks left the Alley to return to their Hogwarts tower, and began the arduous process of sorting through the dead Death Eaters, interrogating the few live ones, and cataloguing all the information gained from the dead and the interrogations.

=WTWM=

Lucius Malfoy stood in his study, standing tall and proud, every inch the aristocratic wizard out of one of the old tales; yet his hands betrayed his nervousness as they fiddled with the silver serpent head that topped his cane. One of the shopkeepers of Diagon sympathetic to the cause had just left to get back before people noticed that he was missing. He had reported that the lesser Death Eaters who had gone to sow havoc there had been utterly defeated by the warlocks, led by Dumbledore himself.

Lucius had heard through the Ministry that Dumbledore had taken down the few who been torturing a half-blood irritation of a shopkeeper, but had only heard that it had been the four staff wielders. Now, though, now he knew that all the warlocks had definitely stood to, and he had to go and report it to his lord, who had never taken kindly to such news, even at the best of times. Now, when his lord was still becoming used to actually having a body again, he was even less receptive to bad news.

Lucius jerked his head up, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and went to give his report to his lord and master.

=WTWM=

In the Forbidden Forest, the centaurs murmured to each other, and the fletchers began to plan for more arrows.

=WTWM=

Deep in the bowels of Gringott's Bank, a meeting that had lasted for days broke up, and the goblins rushed out. More guards were moved to the ground floor, and the great war wards that had lain unused for centuries were slowly brought up from their inert state to a light slumber, ready to snap to full alertness and power in a mere moment.

=WTWM=

Around britain, the news of an attack by Death Eaters spread quickly, and all over the country wizards and witches began to hide themselves away, and hope that this time would things would be better...


	5. Chapter 5: And the Fist is Mighty

**_Standard A/N + "I'm sorry for taking so long" and all that. Oops. So, yeah, sorry._**

* * *

 ** _And the Fist is Mighty_**

The mood in the warlock's tower was sombre, as everybody stood around the map in the centre. As they stood there, they thought of the information that they now possessed, wrung from captured Death Eaters before their execution. They thought of people they once thought friends, in some cases, of people that were kin, and the warlock mourned the last little bit of innocence they had once possessed. For the warlocks would now march to war.

=WTWM=

Dumbledore clapped his hands, the light sound echoing eerily around the tower far more than the quiet clap should have, and began speaking.

"Very well. First, the four of us will stay here. You with wands shall spread out, operating in teams of three, or nine for more serious threats. You will attack all those who we know to be active supporters of the enemy. Should they resist to their death, so be it. Should they surrender, they will be brought here to the Lindenrod. At the same time, we begin searching for Voldemort's soul anchors. Arthur, you'll be working with all the reports to find some clues, while Kingsley directs the war. Xeno, you'll be taking custody and sitting in judgement of any captured, as I work on bringing the Hogwarts wards up to full strength."

Dumbledore sighed, and continued, "My boys, this will not be like Diagon. You won't be going to defend the populace at an instants notice. You will be setting out, knowing that more likely than not, you will be taking lives, and risking your own. I stood there as every one of you swore your oaths. I have watched you grow, watched you learn, watched you become what you are now. I watched you all knowingly take the terrible oaths we took. Be careful, my boys, and live up to your oaths."

Dumbledore turned in a full circle look everyone present in the eyes, before his face firmed into a mask of terrible resolve, and he spoke a word. "Begin."

And the warlocks left, to go to war.

=WTWM=

As the warlocks left, Kingsley turned to Arthur and spoke quietly, "Everybody's so worried about going to war again. Am I the only one here who has been waiting for it? When I was on guard duty for the Prime Minister, I heard a fascinating quote, a prayer I believe, that went 'I thank you, Lord, for this war. While it is not the best of all possible wars, it is better than no war at all'. I have waited so long for this, my brother in arms."

Arthur shook his head, and grimaced as he replied "And what of the death that we'll bringing to people, Kingsley? What of the children with no father or mother that our actions will result in? What of the people that we protect that will be killed in between us and the enemy, as they cower, only hoping to survive? No, Kingsley, you are the Bonestave, and you and yours glory in war. Most of the rest of us simply wish to do this as quickly as possible..."

Kingsley grinned. "Yes, well, Arthur. I am what I am, and I could be no other way. You will march beside me and detest what I will be doing, while I will glory in it. Battle is my calling, and it has such a sweet call..."

Xeno, all the way across the tower, turned and called, "Just remember your oaths, Kingsley. I would hate to be the second Lindenrod that had to judge a fellow warlock. Remember your oaths, or all that we have done, all the oaths we broke, will be for naught. And that I will not abide."

Kingsley and Arthur both turned to look at Xeno, who now seemed to be watching dust dancing in the stream of sunlight from one of the windows. Arthur shook his head, and commented loudly, "D'you know, Xeno, I never did figure out how you do that. Tell me, can you hear what all the students in the rest of the castle are saying, too?"

Xeno looked back unperturbed, cocked his head, and simply stated "Sometimes, yes" before going back to watching the dust motes.

=WTWM=

On the lands of a manor in Kent, forgotten in almost all the mundane records, three men crept forwards towards the manor hall from the south as six waited along the east wall, pressed up against the wall near the large ornate windows.

Slowly, the three eased themselves close to the large carved door that was the entrance, and looked at each other. After a moment, one nodded, and all three drew their wands, and growled out _"Bombarda!"_ As the door exploded inwards, the six on the east unlocked the windows they were near and climbed through.

In the study on the top floor, Albertus Gibbon heard the blast and rushed to the small fireplace in the room. Albertus grabbed a handful of powder and cast it into the flames, while calling "Walden McNair!" Albertus waited for the McNair's head to form in the flames, and then he spoke quickly. "My front door was just blown in. The warlocks have come calling. I had no sign, they must have bypassed all my wards. Pass the word to the others, and to our lord. If I still live, I'll seek sanctuary with one of the others. Now, I must be off."

Gibbon watched as Mcnair nodded and then faded out of the floo. He then opened a hidden compartment in his desk, and took out the single potion vial from within. He looked down at the vial, and smiled a bitter, angry, smile before rolling it gently into the fire that bore no more trace of the green of the floo.

Albertus watched for a second, before snatching up his wand, and striding out of the study to face his fate. As the warlocks ascended the main staircase, he met them with spells, curses, and rage. He held off the warlocks for almost ten minutes before he was struck down by a beam falling from the roof. The warlocks heaved sighs of relief, checked each other over, and began to search the manor for anything of importance. One picked up the fallen Death Eater, and left for Hogwarts. As the search continued, the warlocks stuffed sacks with papers and anything else that might carry information, before one thought to look in the small fire-place in the study.

He saw the small vial, now glowing, and yelled for the others to leave as he sprinted out. Less than a minute later, as eight warlocks stood watching, the house seemed to belch fire. The warlocks left with what they had, and the manor burned hot and a pillar of smoke reached to the heavens behind them.

Later that day, firemen puzzled over the burnt out shell of a manor that didn't appear on any map after they spent hours fighting the fire.

=WTWM=

In London, three men dressed in very formal and old fashioned suits attracted a great deal of attention as they chased down a fourth, shouting all the while. People watched as they bound him with a magical rope before removing him in a government vehicle, at least until the Obliviators arrived, escorted by Aurors.

=WTWM=

In Hogwarts, wand warlocks came and went, dropping off their targets and any other spoils of war, and the students jostled each other for the few spots that they could watch the happenings. In the tower, Arthur frantically sorted the growing collection of papers and objects with Shacklebolt's assistance, as Xenophilius Lovegood sat as the Lindenrod and declared the fate of the few captured men and women.

Deep in the dungeons, below even the corridor to the Slytherin rooms, Albus Dubmbledore kneeled before the three wardstones of Hogwarts with his staff held above his head, and channelled his will and magic into them as he chanted in old, near dead, languages.

=WTWM=

Across Britain, the warlocks fought and claimed victory, as the wizarding world watched. Many people vanished, some caught by warlocks, others retreating in groups to the better defended family manors, where they heard of Gibbon's warning, and brought up all the wards they could.

Others, seeing the Death Eaters bringing up their wards, brought up their own, until any family that could had their wards and wands ready at all times. The wizarding world watched and waited, with mixed fear, delight, dread, and hope. Fear, that when the Death Eaters struck back they might be the target, delight, that the ones they had feared were being struck down by the fabled warlocks, dread, that what might come after this could be worse, hope, because of the stories once again being told of the warlocks of old, and how they were bound to their oaths...


	6. Chapter 6: Yet, it is but a Fist

**_Well, I could say sorry and all that, but I wouldn't mean it. Also, you may have gathered that any notion of a schedule went out the window long ago... I hope you like it._**

* * *

 _ **Yet, it is but a Fist**  
_

In York, nine wand warlocks stood in a loose circle waiting for the front door of a house they were watching to open. They had already been there for hours, as other warlocks elsewhere worked and chanted to keep the wards on the house from noticing their compatriots, and all they needed was for the front door to be opened. Some grimaced, some whispered to themselves, and one sang very softly to herself, as they all kept utterly still to lessen the work of the Notice-Me-Not they had cast over themselves.

The warlock singing to herself suddenly broke off, and hissed, and the others went from simply still to bundles of tension ready to spring. Moments later the front door was opened by an older witch in terribly old fashioned robes, who sneered at the world as she muttered under her breath. As she put her foot out the door, she fell over stunned, and the nine warlocks rushed the open door and were through it in an instant.

Quickly, they split into two groups, five slamming up the stairs for the upper floor, and the other four working in pairs to clear the ground floor. The first of the five up the stairs kicked in the first door he saw around the bannister, expecting at most a surprised old man scrabbling for his wand...

The singing witch was coming up the stairs last, when three of the warlocks ahead of her were flung backwards over her head. Then the first one up the stairs crunched through the bannister, into the wall, and down the steps to the floor. Purely on instinct she threw up the strongest shield she could, only to feel the shield crumble under a tremendous power. Trying desperately to throw up another shield, she stumbled back and down, nearly tripping over the wizard lying senseless at the base of the stairs.

As she moved backwards over the now level floor, she saw out of the corner of her eye one of the four that had been clearing the lower floor being dragged by two others towards the front door, as the fourth desperately shielded.

The stomp of boots on the steps above her snapped all her attention back up the stairs, and she saw a man in dark Death Eater robes and steel and silver mask coming down the stars slowly. She froze for moment as the mask tilted to one side, and a hollow metallic laugh came from behind it. The Death Eater's wand slowly came up in a mocking salute, and the pitiful shield she had managed crumbled under a wave of raw magic and force. In that instant, she saw her death approaching, and felt almost peaceful. When two shimmering walls of light sprang up before her, she blinked, then shook herself and knelt to pick up the bleeding warlock crumpled unconscious on the floor, as the shields flared with the strength of whatever was hitting them.

The warlock covering the retreat of the three that had been searching the ground floor with him threw up a seemingly solid brick wall, and glanced to the side to check on the other half of the team. He saw one being carried out in a fireman's carry leaking blood, as three others limped backwards throwing up all the shields and distractions they could.

In moments, all four of them were shoulder to shoulder, as the others carried the badly wounded out the now ruined front door. As soon as they heard the shout, they turned and sprinted out the door, and piled onto the others, who were standing together. He heard someone shout "PORTUS!", and felt the wrenching dislocation of a portkey, and then he was sprawled on the cold stones of the tower in Hogwarts castle.

He felt hands grab him and pull him back, then pull off his robes to check him for damage. He saw other warlocks pick up the two seriously injured and rush them from the tower, as one of the others ran ahead.

=WTWM=

Rabastan Lestrange the Elder sat in his favourite winged armchair, slowly spinning his wand in his hands, as he waited for news from the trap he had been in charge of setting up. When the large mirror on the wall flared, he smiled disturbingly, and stood.

"So. Tell me. Did you manage to kill them?" Rabastan's voice was soft and eerie, and carried an undertone that spoke of a hunger for pain. The image in the mirror slowly settled into a Death Eater mask, and the reply came back, "No. The moron you gave the job of coming in behind them and closing them in didn't come. I can't get find him, or his two lackeys. I know we surely injured at least two of them, maybe more." The mask in the mirror grew larger and the voice grew softer, "Find those three. They're either traitors or cowards, besides being manifestly worthless." The masked figure paused a second, and continued, "Also I was talking to the other one of us here with me. He said that he heard that your children may be joining you sooner than rather than later. Anyway, pass on the report to our lord. We have to go clean up, just in case."

=WTWM=

In depths under Gringotts, a meeting was taking place, with Ragnok sitting at the head, and all the senior managers in attendance. When the door opened and a young goblin rushed in to hand a scroll to Ragnok, almost all were surprised, as these meetings were never disturbed, on pain of death.

When Ragnok began to chuckle, and then break out into deep belly laughs, the other goblins looked at each other uneasily. Then Ragnok cut off his laughter, and began to speak. "The shamans sent me word of something they were watching, and oh, my kin, the word is good, I say. Nine warlocks attacked a house, and were thrown back, bleeding, by a mere two of the dark one's followers."

Ragnok looked around. "They fled back to that damned castle in the north." Again Ragnok chuckled, and continued, "If this is what the warlocks are like now, their war with the dark one will not be over anytime soon. They're weak, both sides. The dark one can not yet operate openly, and there is a limit to how many warlocks there can be."

Ragnok stood, and raised his hands and voice, "So, I think we should strike at the wizard-folk, now, when they are torn by their own struggles. We once were warriors! We can take Diagon hostage, then dig a mine to the ministry later. We have a chance to kill the warlocks, once and for all! I say, let us not waste it!"

After Ragnok sat down, order broke down and the shouting went on for hours. Outside the meeting room, the goblin guards heard the shouting and looked at each other and wondered just what had happened that caused shouting to break out in a room that rarely heard anything above a dignified speaking voice...

=WTWM=

Bill Weasley was heading into work, when he noticed something odd about the bank. He felt a thrumming deep in his bones, a thrumming that he'd only felt twice before, when he'd worked on ancient, powerful, and extremely dangerous wards left on a cursed tomb. He paused in the street, in front of the tall marble front, and looked around. Almost all of the damage from the fight that had happened earlier in the week had been repaired, but as he looked closer at the bank, he noticed that almost three quarters of the tellers chairs that he could see through the open doors were empty and there were far more security goblins than normal, all wearing far more weaponry than normal.

As Bill was looking around, he saw one of the small detachments speak to a teller who pointed right at him. At that moment, Bill felt cold, and turned and walked seemingly calmly away from the bank, back down the street. He kept walking until he was outside Fortescue's shop, and then ducked in. He glanced around and saw that everything looked fine, and walked up to Mr. Fortescue, and asked, "Hello! Would you happen to have a copy of the Quibbler around? I missed the last edition, and I was really looking forward to it!"

Bill watched Mr. Fortescue reach under the counter and pull out a copy. At that point, Bill reached out and grabbed it, flipped to the rune puzzles, and circled different parts of three different puzzles and handed it back. Fortescue looked closely at the page and said, "Ah. Well, I suppose you'll might want to use my floo, eh, young man?"

Bill nodded, and followed Fortescue upstairs to the shop's fireplace. A handful of powder later and Bill Weasley was talking frantically with his father, speaking so quickly that his tongue was tripping over itself.

As the elder and younger Weasleys talked, the last of the teller's stations in the bank was closed as Ragnok himself stepped onto the main floor of Gringott's Bank. As Ragnok looked around at the goblin warriors, they stood straighter with toothy grins of anticipation of the fight ahead.

=WTWM=

Daedelus Diggle, Delus to his friends, was resting in what the students of Hogwarts were now calling 'The Warlock's Tower' and eating his first meal in nearly thirty six hours, when the Redstaff ran in and pulled him out of his chair. Daedelus shouted "What the hell, Arthur? I just found time to eat!", as he was dragged towards the huge fireplace. The Redstaff yanked him upright, and replied in a dead serious tone, "I just heard from one of the five of us that stayed out of the picture. He thinks the goblins may be up to something. I think he may be right. It's been longer than it ever has, and Director Ragnok has always been a worshipper of the 'heroes of old'. We need to get to Diagon now, and quickly, so head straight to Fortescue's flue. I'll be right behind you."

Diggle fell out of the flue, and rolled forwards, quickly clearing the way for the Redstaff who stepped out mere fractions of a second later. The grip that pulled him to his feet was strong, and when he looked up at the tall redhead that had just yanked him upright, he blurted "What? You also took the oaths?" Diggle turned around and looked at the Redstaff "How many of your family have been warlocks, anyway?"

Arthur smiled a small sad smile and replied "Well, you might say it's sort of a family affair and tradition for me and mine. Had two brothers-in-law who took the oaths. My father. My grand-mother. Several others. And Bill here is carrying on the tradition. He's one of the five that we didn't call in." Bill snorted, grinned, and shook his head. "Enough, dad. Keep it for later, we've got to start getting ready here, in case it happens."

Arthur nodded, and said "Very well. We are going to stay in this room, and wait. When or if the goblins break the treaties, we'll attack. But they must break the treaties first, even if it means they kill some people we could save if we go now. It's not a lovely thought, but that is the way it must be..."

So, the three warlocks sat and waited in the upstairs room of Fortescue's store. After several attempts at conversation that died out almost as soon as they started, they sat silently, waiting for the battle they suspected was coming...

=WTWM=

When the goblin warriors issued forth from the bank, the warlocks stood. Arthur sighed and shook his head. "Bill, I was hoping this whole time that you were wrong... Well, I guess it's not to be. Damn! And we have no-one to help us, with those injured from the ambush earlier, and the rest back out to back up the others, it'll be just us three. This will be long odds until the Aurors get here, if they do."

The three walked downstairs into the empty ice-cream store, and took a waiting position near the entrance. Bill turned to Fortescue, and calmly stated "You probably want to bring up any wards you have, and think about leaving the Alley, if the goblin shamans haven't blocked access."

Diggle, watching the goblins out the large windows of the shop, suddenly shouted "They've done it! They just broke the treaty! Some of their warrior just took a captive after smashing in the front of a store!"

Arthur nodded, and said "Well, time to wield my stave. The two of you stay a bit behind and to my sides." Aurthur took a breath and let it out slowly, before saying in a soft, sad voice "Well, it's time to fight..."  
After sending off a summons to the aurors, Arthur stepped out first, and the other two followed quickly to take up their stations.  
Up the alley, the goblins smashing in shops and dragging out panicking witches and wizards formed up into a large group when one of them saw the warlocks and called out, and the goblin warriors began to march down the Alley with nasty toothy grins on their faces, as more warriors spilled from the wide open Gringott's doors.

And the battle began...

=WTWM=

"My Lord!" A breathless Death Eater ran into the room, and puffed out, "Goblins... Attacking Diagon... Warlocks are fighting... The rest pulling back..."

The Dark Lord grinned, and chuckled lightly. With a wave of his wand, he pulled the Death Eater to him, and then he touched his wand to the hastily presented dark mark. Moments later, all the Death Eaters that were in the Dark Lord's residence came into the room. "Put on your masks and robes. It seems we have an opportunity. The goblins have broken the treaties, and are fighting in Diagon as we speak. Some of the warlocks are there, and the rest will likely be joining them."

"So, we shall strike now, while we can. There are enough of you with me now to hammer the fools easily enough. We leave in five minutes."

=WTWM=

The fortress of Azkaban stood tall on the small storm-swept island in off the coast of Scotland, its black walls giving pause to any who ever came near the island. The only living people on the island were the prisoners immured in the cells, and the only other beings were the dementors, who swept up and down the hallways and around the castle. The dementors were the only beings to see the appearance of twelve men in black robes with bone white or silver and white masks, led by a tall man with skin so pale it seemed to shine under the pale northern sun.

The dementors around the castle swept towards the intruders, only to halt when the tall man held up his wand and spoke one word. The dementors pulled back slowly, their seemingly empty hoods tracking the man as he led the dozen people with him into the fortress.

The dementors watched as the dozen systematically broke down doors, and popped them away from the island. They watched as other men in red robes appeared on the island when the cells were nearly empty, and tried to stop the black robed ones from taking the last of the prisoners. They watched as the red robes failed, and all watched as the one who had cast the spell claim back out side. The watched the man throw a curse at the red robes, and then disappeared with a slight popping sound.

Once the man was left, the dementors resumed their endless prowling around Askaban, almost as if nothing had happened, while the red robes left, leaving blood behind on the island.

=WTWM=

Albus Dumbledore stood in the centre of Diagon Alley, and looked around at the smashed shopfronts, the long gouges in the alleyway, the debris of battle lying all over, and most of all the dead lying so pitifully still, and for the first time in a long while felt true rage stir inside him.

He had come through at Arthur Weasley's desperate summons, telling him that the Aurors weren't responding, and that the goblins were attacking Diagon. Albus had summoned all the warlocks back to the tower, and immediately taken Kinglsley and Xenophilius to the Alley.

Together, the three of them had managed to get close to Arthur, who was standing in the middle of the street, hold his wand in one hand and his staff in the other, shielding a wounded warlock who was frantically trying to heal other witches and wizards sheltering behind Arthur. Another warlock lay on his side, unconsious, with bright red blood trickling from a long cut on his head.

Together, the four staff bearers had managed to slowly push the masses of goblins back, all the way to the Gringott's doors, but there they stopped, and began evacuating the Alley. As warlocks came from the tower, they help set up massive wards to hold the within the bank for now, but even Albus had known that it was only temporary, and the goblins wouldn't give easily now they had tasted even the tiniest bit of success.

Albus turned around, and saw the body of a witch who had come to the warlocks aid pinned to the wall by a metal crossbow bolt. He saw the witches and wizards who had had their throats slit ear to ear after they had been caught unprepared. He saw the body of a mother lifted off the young son who she had protected with all she had, and the rage grew...

When the Aurors finally came, and the Chief Warlock found out that they had just found out about it, as all the Aurors had been battling Death Eaters on Azkaban, and losing, the rage within him flared to new heights, and nearly broke free.

Albus Dumbledore didn't see the Aurors reporting to him flinch away from the look in his eyes, or feel waves of power that almost visibly rolled off him. He didn't notice the tone of his voice when he called all the uninjured warlocks to to join him and the Staffbearers, and told them about the Death Eater's attack on Azkaban.

He didn't notice any of it, until Xenophilius Lovegood, reached out and pulled Albus away from the other warlocks and whispered in his ear "Control your anger, Chief Warlock. You are letting it get the better of you, and that I will not let stand, ever."

Albus swallowed, and for a moment felt every second of all his years, before blinking and nodding once. "Thank you, Xeno. You know what I have to do next, yes?"

Xeno nodded. "Yes, that's why I did this. You have to do it, but not without knowing how much anger you carry. I must do as I must, and you must do as you must, Chief Warlock. It is the way of things. Now go tell all the others."

Xeno watched as Albus told the other warlocks to prepare to attack the goblins, and to make sure that all the Ministry properties were secure. He watched as the attack on Azkaban was talked about. He watched and he wondered, deep within, _"Selene, what would you think of what we are about to do?"_


	7. Chapter7: So the Fist takes up the Sword

AN: I am alive! ALIVE!. Ok, enough, I shouldn't have put this in, but I did. Excuse me.

Chapter 7: So the Fist takes up the Sword

* * *

The Warlock's Tower was deathly quiet, as the four staff-wielders stood together in the centre of the largest room, each waiting for another to speak first.

Finally, the Chief Warlock coughed, and spoke.

"Call them all. All the warlocks, all our supporters, all the aurors, all the hit wizards, everyone." Albus turned, and continued, "We shall need to hit the Cornwall clan first, to secure the south. Gringotts in London is stalemated, but it will not continue if they get help, so Cornwall must be stopped from supporting London. Then that small clan in north Wales, and after that the all the northern clans."

Albus turned back to the window, and spoke again, "There will be no mercy in this. The goblins hate us, us warlocks especially. I had thought that the hate had settled into mutual wariness, which would in turn slowly move into partnership, but Ragnok must have been pushing his vision for a long time now, in order to get the support to stage a full rebellion, even if it was only the London clan, and whatever warriors from other clans were visiting."  
He paused and took a deep breath. "However, now that London has seen battle, the other clans will rebel. We almost lost that fight, and that makes us look weak. It doesn't matter that there were only three warlocks there, to the goblins it looks like we are weak now. That we will also be dealing with Voldemort and his Death Eaters only makes things easier for them. So, we must smash the goblins, and grind them into the dust if need be."

"Arthur, you will have to go talk to the Minister. He must inform the Prime Minister. There is no leeway in the laws, the Prime Minister must be informed by the Minister if the goblins rebel. Meanwhile, I will be informing the other party involved in the goblin's oaths. I hope the PM and Fudge haven't let things get completely out of hand..."

"Kingsley, you will ready a rough plan for Cornwall. Involve the Aurors in this. You know what to do beyond that. Xeno. You will take charge of some of the Aurors. Your job will be to capture any goblins of high rank, and find out just which ones are the oath-breakers."

Albus snorted, and Xeno cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Xeno. I just find some tiny amount of humour in the fact that we, who are called 'warlocks', will be judging if others are 'oath-breakers'..."

Arthur spoke up, then, and asked, "And what about the Death Eaters? If we are busy smashing the Rebellion, they will have free rein. We can't be everywhere at once, Albus, and the people will be relying on us."

Dumbledore dropped his head, and responded in a weary voice, "I know, I know. But we can't hold two fronts. The Death Eaters fight and retreat just like we do. They are wizards and witches, after all. The goblins, however, they will be coming out of their mines and they will be bringing the war chanters, and the shamans, and the priests of the deep and once they get going they will blaze a trail that could end the Statute of Secrecy. You must remember, my boys, that they will fight as they always have, and Britain hasn't seen a large scale rebellion since the fourteen hundreds."

Dumbledore shook his head, and looked at Arthur. "You know this, Arthur. I know it. But we say it all anyway, hoping desperately for some other way to do things so that we could be everywhere at once, so that we need not fight. But, Arthur, that's just not going to happen. So, you start relaying all you know about the goblins to the rest of the warlocks, and I will speak to Severus about the Death Eaters. I suppose I should also talk to Minerva and see just how the school is getting along, shouldn't I?"

Kingsley spoke up then and asked "And me? Xeno? I suppose we should start getting ready for battle, yes?"

Dumbledore nodded, and walked out of the tower, sadness set in his shoulders.

=WTWM=

In the dungeons of Hogwarts, in the private study of the Potions Master, Severus Snape sat at his desk, a bottle of cheap drink steadily making its way down his throat as he stared at the wall, old and not-so-old memories writhing through his mind.

=WTWM=

It was in Cornwall that the second battle of the goblin rebellion happened. For the many assembled witches and wizards, it was almost disappointing, as they had come to Cornwall prepared to split the skies with lightning and sunder the earth with fire, and all they found were twenty-eight goblins in a circle chanting and beating their giant woad stained war drums.

The several hundred witches and wizards, led by the warlocks, surrounded the goblins and spent mere moments crushing what resistance the goblins could mount. It was then that the puzzled carrier of the Bonestave asked the Redstaff "Weasley, what on earth is happening? By Merlin's staff! I wanted a battle! And now all there is, is a piddling little chanting circle!"

Arthur looked at Kingsley for a moment, before motioning him to follow along. They walked through the groups of aurors and hit-wizards, ignoring the flinches as they walked by, until they came across Albus and Xeno surrounded by the wand warlocks. The four clustered together, and the others gathered around them.

"Well, it seems that we have been suckered, gentlemen. The goblins have gathered in Wales. All of them. Either they already knew what was to happen, or they were very bloody fast about moving afterwards. The circle was left here to keep our attention, and make it look like they were still here." Arthur continued in a quiet voice, "I would recommend we move on them there immediately".

Albus turned to Kingsley and lifted an eyebrow. Kingsley tossed the Redstaff from hand to hand for a moment before speaking.  
"Yes. We have as many people as we can get, and if we delay, we will lose forces as the goblins manage to consolidate their forces. Also, and more importantly, it will decrease the chance of a breach of the Statute if we act immediately."

The warlocks simply nodded as they received their new orders, once the four staff-wielders had finished their discussion. The aurors and the others just felt their nervousness grow as their orders were spread. Some covered it up with bad jokes, others stared at nothing, a few caressed their wands while feeling for the slightest crack or imperfection in the item that they felt showed exactly what they were. As the warlocks began the laborious process of enchanting the portkeys, the jokes got worse, the stares more distant, the nervous tics more visible. When they finished the portkeys, the jokes had stopped, the staring at far off places no longer in evidence, and wands were held firmly in hand.

=WTWM=

In the residence of the Dark Lord, Death Eaters rushed about, as they helped those they had freed from Azkaban. The once-prisoners lay in beds spread out in the main hall. Some lay there with their heads lolling about after having had many potions and other substances poured down their throats. Others fought to stand, their eyes bright with madness, arrogance, or rage. Others just lay on their cots with grins or smirks on their faces as they watched their fellows. All, however, occasionally turned their eyes worshipfully to the back of the Dark Lord, who stood at a window looking out over the grounds.


	8. Chap 8: The Sword goes Forth to Battle

Rise, my faithful dead, rise! I suppose, if I am going to write something, leaving it on a comp that will be in a container on a ship in the pacific for 5 1/2 months when I am already way overdue for an update isn't exactly a good thing... On the other hand, I discovered that I hate laptops, and confirmed that Windows 10 is devilspawn disguised as software.

* * *

Rhys Morgan had left behind being a solicitor, and retired to a small farm where he ran a few sheep and spent his days walking around. He had loved the idea when he first had it, and still loved it, even when he had to deal with one of the stupidest creatures in all the wide earth. Rhys still didn't understand how a sheep could get its head stuck in a solid stone wall... The Morgan farm being rather far from any road, especially any road that had tourists regularly, Rhys was surprised to see a several people in what looked to be tourist druid costumes walking towards him from the front gate of his farm. The old man leading them most definitely fit the stereotype, having long white hair and a beard that reached past his navel, a staff, and a beaming smile.

Rhys walked to meet them, and when they were within talking distance, was much surprised to be asked by the elderly gentleman "Rhys Morgan, yes? You live here with your wife, and no one else?"

Rhys blinked, and answered, "Um, yes, can I help you? You aren't lost are you?"

The old man's smile turned slightly sad, and he said "No, Mr Morgan, I am sorry, but I am indeed not lost." The old man's left hand came up with a stick in it, and there was a flash.

Rhys looked around, wondering why he was standing near the gate, looked up at the sky and decided to lock the sheep away for the next couple of days, and spend the day indoors with Bronwyn. She had been saying that he had some things to take care of around the house, and he didn't like the look of the weather.

=WTWM=

Albus Dumbledore looked around as the last of the warlock-led witches and wizards gathered at one end of beautifully green valley in Wales. Arthur and Kingsley came up to him and both nodded, before Arthur said, "It's confirmed. All the local muggles have been confounded to stay inside, and we have put down wardings that the goblins won't be able to detect to keep other muggles out of the area. We have about one, maybe two, hours before the goblins march through this valley. Still, we will have to assume that they know we are here. They wouldn't turn aside for us, even if they knew that they would lose."

Dumbledore smiled sadly and nodded. "Well, my boys, I think we must prepare the reception for our guests, then. Xeno, Arthur, you two will hold the left, Kingsley, you will hold the centre. I will hold the right. The wand warlocks will be spread out between us, and the aurors and others will form a line behind us in small groups, the same groups they were just in being led by the wand warlocks. They will shield us from harm and destroy any leakers."

Xeno hummed distractedly, and walked off to the left side of the valley, where he sat on the ground and started picking grass and weaving it into a crown, as the other warlocks spread out to move people into position.

=WTWM=

'Delus Diggle stood next to Bill Weasley and stared out over the valley they would be fighting in. He snorted, and Bill looked down and cocked his head, setting his dragon-claw earring swinging. "What do you find funny now? Care to share?"

Delus leaned in close and whispered "Bill, look at us. Now look at the aurors and the hit-wizards. Look at how they are looking at us! A few days ago, most of these people would have looked at me and smiled, if they didn't laugh themselves silly. All they would think of was my rather famous show of shootings stars in Kent, when I was rather drunk. But now, they won't come within five feet of me unless I step close to them. It's all very odd, don't you think?"

Bill shrugged, hummed vaguely, and replied; "Maybe we should talk about it later? Let's get our aurors into position, and maybe cheer them up? They didn't expect to be waiting so long, and look at them, they are getting nervous. Too much time to think. Not too long now, and we will be in it again. At least it won't be like Diagon."

As Diggle summoned his people and walked off, Bill stood there stroking his earring, feeling the runes carved into it, the almost unnoticeable gemstone in the top, and felt the calm of knowing that battle was imminent settle over him.

=WTWM=

It started with the drums. Deep voiced and thundering, the drums were heard before the goblins came into sight, with a shuffling _thud thud thud_ underneath the drums, the sound of the goblin host marching. Then the goblins came into the valley proper, grouped into blocks with carts bearing drums and chanting shamans and priests in between them. They outnumbered the wizards easily fifty to one, and the laughter that went up from the goblins was hideous to hear.

Dumbledore nodded to himself, and whispered a spell, then spoke and all heard him as if he was whispering in their ears. "Well, my boys, it is time to begin. Beware the goblins blades and bolts, and do not hesitate. Be strong my boys."

As the green tide of goblins came down the valley, the four raised their arms and began to chant. Slowly the hair on people's head began to creep up into halos, and the air began to almost tingle.

Less than a mile away the goblin laughter turned to snarls and the horde began to move as fast as they could without calling the charge, as the air throughout the valley began to swirl around them.

Before the wand warlocks, the ground rose and fire gyrated into vaguely humanoid shapes, and behind them the aurors called and cast shields.

When the goblins came to half a mile, every being on the field heard Dumbledore's whisper of "Begin."

=WTWM=

In London, the Prime Minister sat with his liaison to what he thought of as 'those bloody fools', and waited. When the liaison stared into nothingness for a moment, he asked "Well? What's happening?"  
The liaison swallowed and stuttered "Um, well, um, the battle has begun, and, um, I uh, need to go back to the, um, ministry. I will come back, um, when there is, um, news."  
The Prime Minister waved him out, watched him step through the fireplace, and went back to waiting.

=WTWM=

Destruction lashed out from the wizards and witches, and some was thrown aside by the goblins own magics, while elsewhere the magic rent the earth of the valley or blasted great holes in the tightly packed groups of goblins.  
Goblins died by the hundreds, but the mass of goblin warriors steadily closed the gap between the forces.

The goblins horde grew steadily nearer, and as its front passed to within one hundred and fifty metres of their enemies, the raised voices of the chieftains called the charge. As the tightly packed goblins slowly picked up speed to a full charge, a pace that was perhaps jogging speed, they went past the a small rock lying on the ground that none of them even noticed.

Among the warlocks and aurors, Dumbledore whispered into the air, "All warlocks, they just past the point of no return, they can't stop now even if they want to. Do it."

Within moments of him speaking, the earth before the wizards rippled as if it was water and the fiery shapes that had been behind them flew forth. The wave spread forwards at a great speed and smashed into the formation of goblins. The goblins stumbled but kept coming forwards. Then the fire walked flew and swooped at them and those in the front that were caught screamed as they burned. Some goblins even tried to turn and run.

However, once a densely packed group is moving, it does not stop easily, and turning around is impossible, and so the horde kept on coming as the pressure from the back drove them onwards.

=WTWM=

The Dark Lord sat in his chair, and stared into a full length mirror before him. In the mirror there was the image of what looked to be an average Ministry of Magic bureaucrat, sitting in a small office.

"It is confirmed then? The warlocks are, even as we speak, engaged with the beasts in battle?"

The bureaucrat bowed his head and replied, "Yes, Lord. The enchanted object that we are listening to is hearing the reports of one of the aurors who is there, and tasked with reporting to the minister's office."

The Dark Lord nodded sharply. "Well done. Now, back to your place, and remain out of contact with anyone here for a minimum of three weeks." The mirror seemed to darken, before returning to showing nothing but a normal reflection.

The Dark Lord stood and walked from the room, and went to the hall of his residence where he called out, "It seems that the warlocks and the goblins are, in this moment, engaged in battle. I think that it is time for us to repay their foolish attacks upon us"

"Come, my loyal Eaters of Death, let us go and strike down those who would dare to stand against us! Let us find the old fool himself and finally bring him down!


End file.
